


What’s that behind your ear?

by CinnabarMint



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnabarMint/pseuds/CinnabarMint
Summary: Crowley looks at himself in the mirror. He practices the motions time and time again. He dons his glasses and squares his posture.He’s got this.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 106





	What’s that behind your ear?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wait but I actually need to talk about Aziraphale loving magic tricks](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/619384) by @letmetemptyou. 



> Enjoy!

Crowley looks at himself in the mirror. He practices the motions time and time again, until he’s sure he can go through them asleep. At the same time Crowley can’t believe that Aziraphale has trouble doing something as easy as pulling a coin out of someone’s ear but won’t admit that he went to Chicago to take a particular class just to be able to pull this off right.

If Aziraphale is not impressed by this, Crowley will have to kiss him.

(Kill him, he meant kill him. For Satan’s sake.)

Crowley dons his glasses, squares his posture and looks at himself in the mirror. He’s got this.

The drive from his flat to Aziraphale’s bookshop helps him shake the last of his nerves. He parks the Bentley, and opens the door to the bookshop to an image that renders his heart into overdrive and his therapeutic drive completely useless.

“Hello, dear boy,” Aziraphale looks from his mirror while he’s buttoning the top of his shirt closed, “you’re a bit early”.

“Ngk,” says Crowley.

“Can you pass me my coat?,” Aziraphale’s adjusting his bow tie now, and Crowley suddenly remembers how to English.

“A demon is never late nor is he early, Angel, he arrives precisely when he means to,” Crowley proclaims with a smug smirk.

“Don’t make me regret showing you the Lord of The Rings, Crowley.” Aziraphale warns.

“I would never,” his smile warms, “Shall we?”

“Yes, for certain my dear,” Aziraphale kisses Crowley’s cheek, takes his arm and follows him, locking the bookshop.

The walk to Saint James Park, for Aziraphale, is picturesque. He’s enjoying the light and colors of the street while he goes on and on about the menu changes at his favorite sushi restaurant. For Crowley it is torture. He’s trying to make sure his palms don’t get too sweaty and that he’s still answering logical things to Aziraphale’s prompts. They arrive at the park and head to the pond. Crowley’s starting to wonder if the ducks can make him calmer when Aziraphale startles.

“Oh,” the delicate voice says, “look at that.”

Aziraphale is picking up a lone egg, the colour of the sky. The egg has a little hole and a small sound is coming from inside.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Aziraphale starts talking to the egg, “Now where do you come from?”

“You can miracle it back, Angel,” Crowley tells Aziraphale, unthinkingly.

“Why, dear boy. It’s not the same! No, no. That won’t do. Let us find your family,” Aziraphale starts strutting quackily around the pond. Looking for a nest.

Lunch time passes, as well as tea time before they can locate the nest. The rest of the eggs are hatching too. With a smile Aziraphale puts the egg down, making sure it will be fine and loved with its siblings.

“Look at it dear,” Aziraphale chuckles, “it’s like we’re godparents all over again.”

And that’s when Crowley’s heart bursts. He reaches into his pocket and swallows, trying to make his tongue less dry.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley’s voice is strangled.

“Yes?.”

“What is that behind your ear?”

“What?”

Crowley reaches behind Aziraphale’s ear and prays he won’t botch this. With a smooth motion he pulls out a ring and shows it to Aziraphale briefly, before going down on one knee.

“What? Crowley!” Aziraphale’s blushing, he sways slightly with the emotion of what has just happened and what is about to come.

“I love you, Angel.” He takes Aziraphale’s hand and lays a soft kiss on the back. “Have loved you for a while now. I don’t really remember what it is like not to love you, and I don’t want to remember that anymore. I don’t want to remember what it is like not to be by your side.”

“I… but… did you miracle it?” He asks, voice small.

“No. It was in your ear, Angel.”

“In your pocket.” Aziraphale starts tearing up. Remembering a similar argument.

“For Someone knows how long.” Crowley smiles. He looks into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Will you marry me, Angel?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispers. He sinks to the ground slowly, hugging himself and weeping. Crowley wraps him in his arms while he kisses his curls, “Yes, my darling. Yes I will. Anytime, anywhere, always.” Aziraphale hugs back, arms trembling.

Crowley starts kissing Aziraphale’s tears dry, closing in, until he reaches the corner of his mouth. Aziraphale sighs and Crowley traps his lips in his own, his Angel sags.

He looks up at Crowley, beaming, and presents his hand.

Crowley puts the ring on Aziraphale and touches their foreheads together. People start clapping around them. Aziraphale laughs wetly, then his tummy grumbles.

“So, Angel,” He smiles, “Where should we go celebrate?”

“Anywhere, my dear,” Aziraphale kisses him, “As long as it’s with you, Anywhere”.


End file.
